


Poisonous

by imalright



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Ambiguous/Open Ending, During Timeskip (Fire Emblem: Three Houses), F/F, Fire Emblem: Three Houses Golden Deer Route Spoilers, Mutual Pining, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-23
Updated: 2019-10-23
Packaged: 2020-12-27 15:37:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,467
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21121157
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/imalright/pseuds/imalright
Summary: Hilda convinces Marianne to take a short break from their wartime duties.





	Poisonous

**Author's Note:**

> warning for brief mentions of suicidal ideation and some self-destructive internal dialogue

_"What about you, Marianne?"_

She saved her, you know.

Hilda saved her. She saved her in the way she asked her opinion, like she _mattered._ She saved her in the way she stood by her side, like she was a _friend._ She saved her in the way she helped her with chores, like she was _worth the effort._ Marianne doesn't understand it. She doesn't understand why, of all the people she could have saved, she chose _her._

Her, who brings misfortune to those around her.

Her, who prays to the goddess for death.

The way she smiles at her from atop her horse, carefree and joyful, takes her breath away. Words she spends far too long mulling over fall apart in the face of Hilda's happiness. Her friend — _her friend_ — encourages her nonetheless until she spills words that don't mean half as much as whatever she had been working on.

Is this why people write poetry?

"I'm _so_ glad you wanted to come with me," Hilda's cheery voice breaks through her thoughts. "I'm excited to get away with my good friend, Marianne!"

Marianne flushes and her heart clenches painfully. She searches for the right words; how can she share her gratitude? How can she put the depth of her feelings into words?

"Uh — um," she says gracefully. She presses her lips together and looks down.

"Aw, don't look like that!" Hilda always has a way of breaking through her dark, destructive thoughts. "I'm gonna make you smile by the end of this, you mark my words!"

Wouldn't that be something?

"We're almost there anyway, so I hope you're ready!"

She's not.

"Okay," she says instead.

And Hilda smiles at her again, pulling her heart in a familiar pattern. She wonders, can Hilda see her adoration? Does she have the power to make her feel the same?

Marianne pats Dorte's neck. She'll tell him about this later. For the next four days, however, she'll be travelling through unfamiliar Goneril lands to the perfect vacation spot, at least according to Hilda.

The two years since the fall of Garreg Mach have been difficult, in no small part due to Margrave Edmund's involvement in the Alliance's internal conflicts. Hilda's father and brother have been affected as well. Everybody's exhausted. Hilda and Marianne have hardly had time for greetings, let alone travelling, amidst the instability and uncertainty the war has brought upon them. Despite not being directly involved and pushing neutrality, the Alliance can feel the effects of the Empire's invasion and it's, for lack of a better word, _tiresome._

This why, Claude claims, his former classmates need a vacation.

Marianne had been skeptical; why should she be allowed a vacation when she's hardly done anything worthwhile? She did her best to reject time away (though, admittedly, her best is rarely ever good enough) and was ultimately overruled by everybody else, most vocally Hilda, who said Marianne needed a vacation most of all.

She observes Hilda, who's pulled ahead of her. She's so helpful, so kind, so friendly; she's everything Marianne isn't. She can only hope she doesn't poison her.

Hilda urges her horse ahead and Marianne can see the trees parting ahead of them, beyond which lies a massive lake, framed by a forested shore and mountains in the distance. Her mouth falls open at the beautiful sight. Birds fly above and sing in the trees and rabbits hop around and everything is _so_ peaceful. Marianne sighs. It brings her shame to admit, but she's glad Hilda wanted to bring her along.

Hilda looks positively elated as she dismounts her horse and Marianne thinks she can see why; the water is reflecting the pinks and oranges of the evening sky, giving it an ethereal glow that feels warm and familiar.

"It's the color of your hair," Marianne says softly, still atop her horse. It's calming and encouraging, and even Dorte seems at ease.

Hilda blushes a similar shade of pink. "Oh wow, Marianne! I'm flattered! I knew I made the right decision when I asked Claude if we could go together."

She doesn't have a response so she smiles and Hilda positively _beams_ at her.

"You're always _such_ a darling!" she exclaims before gathering her saddle bags and unpacking in a way that can only be described as _tidy._ Marianne can't help but compare herself as she sets her belongings down in a haphazard pile next to Hilda's. She leans down to try and meet Hilda's standards and is quickly waved away. Hilda organizes the rest of her things and makes quick work of setting up their tent.

"I'm sorry," Marianne says, defeated. Hilda fixes her with a surprised stare.

"Why are you sorry?"

"I... you're always helping me," she gestures to the tent and their neatly organized belongings. "I'm no good at this, and you had to work twice as hard because of me..."

"Marianne! That's not what you say when someone helps you!" Hilda puts her hands on her hips and tries to look stern. "You say _thank you_ when someone helps you! I don't want you to be sorry because I want to help you!"

"O-oh," she says quietly, "I'm sorry..."

Hilda sighs and Marianne, who thought she was resigned to being a disappointment, feels a twinge of guilt. She gathers her courage to continue.

"Thank you," she tries to speak strongly and maybe, just maybe, her voice isn't wavering as much as usual. "You've never given up on me."

Hilda goes back to smiling. She waves her hand. "Aw, don't mention it! You're great!"

Marianne holds her hands close to her chest. She's unsure how to continue; does she thank her again? Say nothing?

Lucky enough, Hilda seems to know what to do.

"Let's have tea," she says as she pulls a travel set from her belongings. "I even brought a few cakes and stuff. We can just sit out here and have a picnic, does that sound good?"

Marianne nods.

"Great! It's a date!"

_Wouldn't that be something._

Hilda lays out a woven blanket and beckons Marianne to sit with her. She tenses before complying and when she _does_ sit down her back is stiff and her arms unsure. She folds her hands in her lap, places them on the ground next to her, fists them into her skirt —

"Hey!" Hilda sets her hand on Marianne's shoulder and with a start she realizes she distracted her from making tea. "It's okay! We're here to _relax._ So relax!"

She nods, eyes on her hands, and finally clasps them together in her lap. She doesn't dare look up, but she can't tune out the cheery song Hilda sings to herself. Always so full of life. Carefree. Confident that Marianne would never, _ever_ hurt her. She's unsure how much time she spends on this train of thought and, when Hilda presents her with a cup of tea, she gratefully takes the distraction.

"To us!" Hilda cheers and lightly taps their glasses together. Marianne can't help a small giggle and Hilda looks very, very smug.

"To us," Marianne agrees.

It's... _nice._ Perhaps a bit indulgent, but when she watches the way Hilda's eyes slide shut when she takes a sip her trepidation washes away. They sit in silence for awhile and Marianne finds herself thankful; all the words she's supposed to say, the weight of her cursed crest, it gets overwhelming. She sets down her tea and, involuntarily, she sighs.

Marianne jumps at the feeling of skin against skin. She looks at her own hand and is surprised to see Hilda's calloused hand covering it. She flushes and, despite herself, she smiles.

"We all love you, Marianne," she says quietly. When did she get so close? "We're all so glad to have met you. _I'm_ so glad to have met you."

Her breath hitches in her throat. Hilda's face is glowing warmly, both from the sun and from her own kindness. She wonders if her skin cast in shadows is cool to the touch. Would it truly be poison to brush her fingers over her cheek? Would it truly be poison to press her lips against hers?

"I'm sorry, Marianne. Did I scare you?"

She shakes her head. She never could.

Hilda smiles, her eyes shining. "I'm glad. I love you, you know."

_Would it truly be poison?_

She wraps her arms around Hilda and, as gently as she can, leans her forehead onto her shoulder. Hilda's gentle hands, hands she can hardly believe can stand to touch her, stroke the back of her neck and hold her tightly around the waist. When she finally releases her breath she finds she can't hold back her tears and Hilda, kind, sweet Hilda, hums for her until she calms. She feels nostalgic. She feels like home.

_Would it truly be poison?_

**Author's Note:**

> i've had a document titled "hilda marianne summer romance" open for like a month now
> 
> anyway i'm a lesbian and the whole "are we best friends or are we dating" thing is just the women who love women experience
> 
> come yell about this game with me on twitter @punchyfakegamer


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